Pen Pals
by rongirl98
Summary: Angela and her best friend's cousin have been writing to each other for four years. They're great 'friends', but they've never even met. When she turns 21, Angela decides to move to Waffle Island, where she happens to meet her pen-pal.
1. Prolouge

**Heyo! This is chapter one of one of my new stories! Thank _god_ this is the last one. Anywho, I know it's short, but...it's _really_ early in the morning, and I couldn't think of anything else to type. I think this chapter's 'eh', but I'm not usually that good at first chapters. Anywho, hope you enjoy!**

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><p><em>Dear OrangeHead,<em>

_I'm sorry to say that I can no longer write you, for I am moving to another island. It's been great being your pen-pal, and I've loved writing to you and reading your letters. You're funny, sweet, honest, and I will always remember you. Have a nice life! I hope you become a proffesional cook someday!_

_Yours truely,_  
><em>-FarmerGirl<em>

I sighed, folded the letter, and put it in an envelope. I've re-read it about a million times, deciding whether it was good enough or not. OrangeHead and I have been pen-pals for almost four years now. It all started when my best friend, Haley, wanted me to meet her cousin, but he was away at culinary school. So she told him to send me a letter. OrangeHead is only his nickname, though. See, he didn't know my name, so he wrote 'Dear Stranger'. I laughed at that and suggested we call each other nicknames.

I chose FarmerGirl, because I've always wanted to become a farmer, and he told me to call him OrangeHead, because he's apparently in love with oranges. So we continued writing to each other, and soon enough we became...friends. After a while we started to write each other daily. I liked reading his letters and replying to them. We make each other 'laugh', we like the same things, have the same points of views, and we listen to each other's problems and give advice.

I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might love him, even though we've never met. I shook my head at that thought, and closed my suitcase. I'm being silly. There's no way you can be in love with someone you've never met...right? Anyway, after he graduated from culinary school, he wouldn't tell me his new address, so I had to send the letters to his old culinary school, which sent them to him.

But I recently bought a house on Waffle Island to start my farming life, and the mail service isn't too terribly good. You can only send letters to the people on the island, or the island nearby. So, sadly, I have to stop writing OrangeHead. I zipped up my suitcase and heaved it off my bed. It squeeked loudly as I rolled it across my bedroom floor, into the living room, and out of my tiny apartment.

I waved my arms frantically to get a taxi until one finally pulled over. I stuffed my belongings into the car, getting in after them, and told the cabbi to drive to the postal office. When we got there, I told the cabbi I'd be right back and entered the building. Walking up the the counter, I held the envelope to my chest.

"The usual address?" The lady behind the counter asked. Almost every employee knew me by now. I nodded, and handed her the envelope. I sighed and walked back to the cab, and told him to head to the dock. I thought about my favorite letters from OrangeHead on the way to the dock, and we arrived there sooner than I thought we would. I tipped the cabbi as I got out of the car, and he sped away before I could thank him. Glancing towards the boat, I picked up my bags and drew in a deep breath.

It's now or never, Angela. It's now or never. A confident smile spread on my face, and I strolled onto the boat. An elderly man with grey-white hair greeted me as I walked onto the deck.

"Hello miss," he said as he tipped his hat to me. I smiled and nodded my head in response. "May I ask, what's your name?"

"Angela Grey," I answered, peering over the railings and watching the waves roll against the sides of the boat.

"I see," the elderly man nodded. "I'm Pascal, the captain of this boat."

"Cool. Well, when will the ship start sailing?" I asked, clutching my suitcases tighter.

"In a few minutes," he replied. I nodded, and he continued to ask me questions. "So, generally speaking, what do you like to eat?"

I thought about my answer. I really liked fruits and vegetables, but fish were nice, too. And not to mention scrambled eggs; they were delicious! Finally, I said, "I guess I like all food. As long as it's cooked right and presented well."

"Interesting," Pascal murmured. "When's your birthday?"

"Mid Fall," I breathed. "Fall seventeenth, to be exact.

"I see. Well happy early birthday, miss Angela," he smiled. I laughed, and the ship horn went off. "And we're off! Waffle Island, here we come." I breathed in deeply, awaiting my future home.


	2. Arrival

**Hey guys! I just want to thank you guys _so_ much for reading! It really means a lot to me that you guys are reading this! And I know this chapter's short and boring, but I _promise_ that they'll get longer and more interesting. I just haven't had any inspiration lately. Anywho, PEACE!**

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><p>"So why did you decide to move to a quaint little island like Waffle?" Pascal asked me as we cruised through the ocean.<p>

"Well," I started. "I've always wanted to become a farmer ever since I first visited my aunt in Mineral Town. I loved helping him with his field and taking care of the animals. So when I saw the brochure-" I held up the folded piece of paper with pictures of a beautiful island. "-For Waffle Island I thought, 'What they hey?'"

The captain chuckled and nodded at the brochure. "It's been years since that brochure was made. Why, you see the young man on the back?" I turned the brochure over, and saw a handsome young man standing on the deck of a boat, flashing a wide smile. "That was me."

"Really?" I gaped, looking from the man on the brochure to the old man in front of me. "It's been that long?"

"Aye, I'm not that old," Pascal joked. He started to laugh, then his chortles turned into hoarse wheezes. I asked him of he was okay when he started to cough. He shook his head, cleared his throat, and straightened his back. "No, no, I'm okay. No need to worry."

I raised my eyebrows and nodded, then leaned against the railings to look out to the ocean. I watched as the waves crashed against the side of the boat, salty spray whipping my face. It felt good.

"What is your main goal in life?" Pascal inquired. He's been asking me questions the whole ride. It felt like he was interviewing me, but I didn't mind. That's how you learn more about a person: by asking questions.

"Umm..." I bit my lip as I thought about my answer. "I guess I just want a happy life. I want to have a nice family, great friends, and a job I love. So my goal in life is...to be happy."

Pascal smiled at me and puffed some smoke out of his pipe. "That's a good goal." I waited for the next question, but it didn't come. Instead, the elderly man announced, "Aha! There it is: Waffle Island!" I looked over to my right to see an island getting bigger by the second. I pushed myself off the railings and beamed. Excited built up inside of me as we got closer and closer to Waffle Island. When we finally got to the dock, Pascal turned off the engine and turned back to me.

"Welcome to Waffle Island, Angela," he told me.

I marveled at the magnificent town standing before me as I strolled off the ship. To my right was a small, blue building with a giant sign with a fish plastered on the top. Judging by the sign, I guessed it was a fishery. _No, it's a hair salon,_ I thought sarcastically to myself. A beach stretched for many yards in front of me. The sandy shore was wet from the deep blue waters brushing against it, the moister parts glistening in the sunlight.

My face lit up at the sight of the town to my far left, then noticed a fat and short man running-more like jogging-towards me. When he reached me, he raised a hand 'hello' then put his hands on his knees and panted heavily.

"A-Are you okay, sir?" I asked the sweaty old man. He wore white trousers on his short, stubby legs, a sapphire blue shirt, and a sky blue overcoat with gold trimmings. A ruffled white ascot with a red gem was tied around his neck. His hair was a dark grey, and slicked upwards. He had green,  
>oval-shaped eyes just above a big, round nose that kind of freaked me out.<p>

The old man wheezed a couple more huffs, then stood up straight and greeted me with a smile. "No, no, I'm alright now," he answered. "Just need a bit more exercise, eh?" He roared with laughter at his joke, while I just smiled and pretended to laugh.

"Ha ha ha ha," I chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced my self yet!" He apologized. He gripped my hand and shook it vibrantly, causing me to shake along with it. "I'm mayor Hamilton! It's a pleasure to meet you, Angela!"

I had to regain my balance when he let go of my hand. After I was sure I wasn't going to fall over, I gave him a broad smile. "Hello, Mr. Hamilton.  
>The pleasure's all mine."<p>

He waved his hand and shook his head. "Ah, call me Hamilton!"

"Okay, uh...Hamilton?" I replied awkwardly. He clapped his hands and beamed at me when I said his name. _Uhh...okaaayyy then_, I thought, raising my eyebrows and tilting my head up. I shook my head and looked back at the buildings lined up together. It wasn't as nice as it looked in the brochure,  
>but it was still fantastic. In my opinion, at least. I preferred small, rural towns with simple shops and peaceful neighbors over extensive, flashy cities with clubs, malls the size of skyscrapers, and people yelling at each other to get a move on the road.<p>

"The town looks wonderful," I continued. "I'm sure I'll like it here."

"Excellent! Excellent!" Hamilton exclaimed. "Wait until you see the rest of the island!"

"I can't wait!" I said with just as much enthusiasm. Hamilton led me through the town, telling me about the history of the island. But I wasn't paying attention to half the words he was saying; I was too busy admiring the scenery and shops that surrounded me. I snapped back to reality when I bumped into Hamitlon's as he stopped in front of a large building with a table out front. A sign to the left read, "Sundae Inn". _Sundae Inn, huh? I wonder what their special is on Sundays..._

"But before you explore the island, you shall meet the people of this town," the mayor ordered. "It'll be nice to know at least some people before you officially move in."

"Wait, what?" I asked. Mayor Hamilton just smiled, put his hand on my back, and gently pushed me towards the door.

"Go greet people," he repeated. "Meet me back here when you're done." I didn't hear the rest of his sentence, however, because I crashed into another person exiting the Inn.


	3. Author's Note

**Hey guys! I'm sorry it's taking me a while to update, but I've been kinda lazy lately. Anyway, updates will be even slower, for this week is spring break and I'm at my grandparents' house in Florida. I'll be spending all week either at the beach, somewhere with my family, or Orlando Studios. Once again, so, so,_ so_ sorry that it's taking an effing long time, and that it'll take longer.**


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